


Party of Two

by Kiraly



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dress Up, Kissing, M/M, Makeup, Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 08:05:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17220104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: They've made it back safely from the Silent World. But now Lalli has to face something more terrifying than trolls: a fancy party. And then there's the little matter of a Swede who looksunfairly goodin his dress uniform.





	Party of Two

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Screaming in a Synchronised Way](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10082138) by [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth). 



> Ages ago I started writing this for a remix week over at Synchronised Screaming chat. The idea was to choose stories that had been previously written for SynS prompts and remix them in some way, by writing from a different character's perspective or changing some other element. I decided to write Lalli's reaction to Emil's fancy clothes and makeup in Elleth's fic [All Dolled Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10082138/chapters/24131172) \- but then apparently I never finished it! I discovered the WIP in my drive the other day, wrote an ending for it and decided to go ahead and post it. Enjoy!
> 
> (This is a Tuuri lives AU)

“Oooh! Doesn’t it look amazing?”

Lalli stepped to the side, dodging Tuuri’s hand as she reached for him. She’d never outgrown the habit of grabbing whoever was nearby when she got excited, and right now it was more than Lalli could handle. “It’s so BIG! And fancy, and so many people!”

All of which was true, and Lalli couldn’t understand why Tuuri thought that was a _good_ thing. He’d protested the dress uniform—it was stupid, no one wore such things in Keuruu—but Tuuri had nagged, and argued, and eventually promised him cookies to get him to wear it. The tunic scratched and had too much embroidery, and the shiny, stiff boots would be useless for scouting. The whole room was like that: too new, too fancy to be useful. And there were far too many people.

As Tuuri kept talking about the decorations, Lalli backed away. No one would notice if he left. If he could get to the hallway—

“Lalli, what are you doing?” _Shit._ Tuuri had noticed. “You can’t leave! The party’s barely gotten started, we haven’t even found the others yet. Don’t you want to see everyone all dressed up? Emil’s been talking about his outfit for days.”

Lalli grimaced. He _did_ want to see Emil. He’d tried to see him earlier, but when he’d stopped outside the door to Emil’s room, he’d heard Sigrun and Emil chattering away like songbirds, too fast to understand. So instead he’d gone out the window and sat in a sheltered corner of the roof until Tuuri hunted him down.

“I don’t care about his stupid clothes,” Lalli said. Emil didn’t need to dress up. Lalli liked him just fine in a dirty uniform with troll guts in his hair.

“Oh yeah?” Tuuri sounded like she was smiling. “Go ahead and tell him that, then.”

Lalli turned to scowl at her and saw what she meant: the others had arrived. The captain came over and ruffled Tuuri’s hair, saying something that made her blush and stammer a reply. The really tall, really stupid one was staring at the room with his mouth open, and it didn’t matter what the medic was doing because he stepped aside and there was Emil.

Lalli had meant it when he said he didn’t care what Emil wore, but when he saw him standing in the doorway, his breath caught in his throat. He looked...different. It wasn’t any one thing—the always-shiny hair made even brighter by reflected lights, or the skin too smooth to be natural, or the eyelashes that were darker than the last time he’d seen them—but all of those at once. Emil was always more vibrant than the world around him, and tonight he was almost too bright to look at. Even the heavy embroidery on his tight-fitting uniform looked right, somehow. And when Emil smiled, Lalli’s heart did something weird.

“Hey.” Emil pushed past the others and stood in front of Lalli. “You look...wow. Uh, I mean, you look good.” The Swedish words were easier to understand now—after his time in Emil’s dream, they fit together in Lalli’s head better—but the reason for them made no sense. Who cared what he looked like? What was he even supposed to say to that? He wasn’t like Tuuri, who could just talk and talk. So he simply looked at Emil, because looking at Emil was nicer than fighting for words.

Emil opened his mouth to say something else, but then one of the people in charge came over and herded them all to a table. Then Lalli was too far away from Emil to do anything _but_ look at him, that and try to shut out the noise of everyone else talking. At one point the Icelander waved his hands a little too much and sent a serving tray crashing to the floor; Lalli covered his ears, but it didn’t help. He spent the rest of the meal under the table, even though Tuuri kept hissing threats at him from her chair.

After dinner things got even worse. Some people started playing music, and instead of listening to it the rest of the people talked even louder. And then they started pairing up to dance, and someone in a red dress was leaning close to speak in Emil’s ear, and—

The hallway was a relief. The door blocked all the noise, and he didn’t have to look at the people with their sparkly clothes and too-bright smiles. Stupid, it was all stupid and he shouldn’t have come. He set off down the hall, meaning to go back to his room and out the window, but then the door opened again. There was a little alcove in the wall, and Lalli ducked into it. _Go away, go away, go away._

“Lalli?”

All the calm he’d managed to gather scattered. Of course it was Emil, looking for him. He was always doing that, and somehow Lalli seemed to always be looking for him, too.

“Lalli? Are you all right?” Any second now Emil would walk right past Lalli’s hiding place, and knowing him he’d keep on going. He’d probably trip over something in the dark. He’d probably hurt himself. “Lalli?”

With a sigh, Lalli reached out, caught Emil’s arm, and pulled him into the alcove.

“Lalli!” Even in the dim light, his eyes were bright. “I was worried about you. Are you all right?”

He hadn’t been all right for months, not since the first time Emil smiled at him. And he’d been even less okay all night, ever since he saw Emil’s face with its weird paint—he looked like himself, but different, and it made the not-all-rightness even worse. But he didn’t know how to say that, so he sighed and reached up to touch Emil’s cheek. There should have been a bruise there, one final souvenir brought back from the Silent World. But now it was hidden.

“Ow!” Emil flinched, and Lalli removed his hand quickly in apology. “I put makeup over it, but there _is_ still a bruise there.” A faint smudge showed through, and Lalli’s fingers had traces of some sticky powder on them.

“Why...did you do that?” Lalli asked. He brushed the powder off on his stupid fancy clothes. “It’s just a bruise.”

“Yeah, but this is a big night! I wanted to look good.” Emil looked away. “I know you probably don’t worry about that kind of thing. You always—” he stopped as Lalli touched his face again, softly so as not to disturb the makeup. His lips were warm under Lalli’s fingers.

It wasn’t so weird, really, now that he looked closer. This was still Emil, just...with a little extra polish. Unlike the shiny useless boots, the Emil underneath was the same as he had always been. And Lalli really liked that Emil.

So he moved his hand to Emil’s jaw and said, “You always look good.” Then he put his mouth where his fingers had been. Emil’s eyes went wide, but then he closed them and leaned into the kiss. He tasted like the drink they’d been serving at the party, and Lalli’s whole body tingled like the tiny bubbles from it. This was better than any drink could be. Lalli would happily drown in this sensation, Emil’s mouth on his and his hands firm on Lalli’s back, pulling them closer with every breath.

When at last he broke away, because he _did_ have to breathe, he met Emil’s wide blue eyes and smiled. “It got messed up,” he said, stroking Emil’s cheek. The bruise was showing through more obviously now. He was pretty sure whatever had been on Emil’s lips was all over his, too; they felt slick in a way that kissing couldn’t account for by itself. It didn’t really matter though. He’d suffer through all kinds of uncomfortable clothes and weird stuff on his face if it meant kissing Emil again.

Emil seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Mmm. I don’t really mind so much.” He covered Lalli’s hand with his, threading their fingers together. That was good. More touching was a good idea. But then, “Maybe I should go fix it before we go back to the party, though.”

Lalli glanced over at the door, trying and probably failing to hide his scowl. The party might not be so bad with Emil at his side...but it wouldn’t be as good as this.

“Will you come with me?” Emil said, forcing Lalli’s thoughts back to the present. “I know it’s a long walk, all the way back to my room. Best if we go together, right?” He squeezed Lalli’s hand.

_Together._ Lalli let his hand fall, keeping hold of Emil’s as he pointed himself towards the stairs. “Your room, hmm?” It _was_ a long walk back, and there were plenty of other hidden alcoves where they might stop along the way. Plus, he thought he could find some other ways to distract Emil once they got there. “Okay.”

Hand in hand, they made their way down the hall, leaving the crowded room behind. As far as Lalli was concerned, it hadn’t been such a terrible party after all.


End file.
